


New Habits

by modelinmate



Series: glee habits [2]
Category: Glee
Genre: Gen, repost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:41:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25090312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/modelinmate/pseuds/modelinmate
Summary: Los Angeles 2012Santana leaves Louisville and moves out to Los Angeles to live with Mercedes who's already busy fighting off Puckerman's charms.
Relationships: Mercedes Jones/Noah Puckerman, Santana Lopez/Brittany S. Pierce
Series: glee habits [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1817140
Kudos: 8





	New Habits

The first thing Noah Puckerman did when moving to Los Angeles was shave off his Mohawk.

Well, actually, the first thing he did in preparation for his move was sell his bike and purchase a used pickup since they were more practical to drive across country in. But that had happened back in Lima before he even left and he didn't like to think about it because he really missed his bike.

So his Mohawk. That had to go. It used to be his identity. It was almost like having a superpower. But he had shaved it off before and was able to gain back his reputation without it so obviously it was just hair. Except no one had noticed him without it. Not really. He was still a Titan so McKinley worshipped him and feared him and envied him, but he kind of just ended up being a football player who got in trouble and picked up a bunch of girls. It wasn't unique. The hawk brought that out and made him just a little bit more special. Even in juvie no one gave a shit the first week. It was the second week when he grew it back that he got a gang of guys behind him. But all that was over now. Los Angeles was a fresh start, and he didn't need to keep it here.

Puck had found a place to stay online. A house was being rented out, and he paid for one of the upstairs bedrooms. Most of the guys who lived there with him couldn't afford dorms. It was supposed to be a helpful place for college students. Puck may have left that part out of his application. It wasn't his fault they just assumed he was enrolled somewhere. If they really cared, they could have run backgrounds checks. Obviously they didn't. It was fine with him. All he needed to worry about was the rent and snagging one of the beers out of the fridge before everyone else grabbed one.

Rent was a _big_ worry, though. It turned out that California was not the best place to start a pool cleaning business. There were already a bunch of them here that had been established for years. Most of them were actually companies that would hire guys like Puck and send them out. It wasn't privately run here like at home. It wasn't a luxury in LA. Families that could afford it made sure they already had it. It just came with the territory. He had worked too hard and come too far to just sell out and take a job as a leaf cleaner for someone else. Puck wanted his own thing or he didn't want it at all.

In the meantime, he did need a paycheck. So he went job hunting. He worked at Chick-Fil-A for a while which got him an early morning phone call from Blaine alerting him that the chain's owners were super homophobic or something, but whatever. Money was money, and if Puck refused to work for every corporation that was run by some weird bible-thumping neo-Nazis or whatnot, he'd never work anywhere. Besides, he was fired after a couple of weeks anyway.

After Chick-Fil-A, it was a car wash that paid zilch. It didn't even cover his rent for the month if he saved it all up. So he quit that job. He tried waiting tables but was awful at it and nibbled a little too much. He looked into being a lifeguard but that was apparently volunteer work. Puck almost got a job giving movie studio tours and had briefly thought his jawline had been discovered and was ready to be put under a face modeling contract, but it was all a scam. It wasn't surprising that the guys kicked him out of the house. They said it was because he lied about the whole school thing, but it was clearly just an excuse. They liked his money well enough before that.

He found a motel to live in by the week. It made paying for it harder because he had to work odd jobs immediately. He no longer had time to freeload. That got him backed up after a few weeks too, and he came home one afternoon to find his room empty. The place's owner evicted him. He didn't even get a notice. Puck was just relieved he had all his pool cleaning supplies in his truck. He couldn't afford to rebuy those.

He thought about looking for another motel room somewhere because there were plenty around and it wasn't like he had been blacklisted. The problem with that was he would end up getting trapped there. The room would just eat up his cash flow, and he'd never be able to save up for another place on his own. So he decided to just stay in his truck. It was warm enough for it. But you actually needed to have an address to get hired somewhere legitimately. He was desperate and had no other choice.

The way he saw it, Puck really only had one option left: Mercedes.

Specifically, Mercedes's apartment.

They had made it a point to see each other every couple of days. It made the mutual transition easier, and even if they were never that close in glee, she was a familiar face. It was comforting to have a friend. Especially a levelheaded one in times of need. Plus, Puck liked to keep an eye on her too just in case she needed him. Creeps were everywhere, and he'd like to be there if it was ever necessary. And it wasn't just Mercedes. He tried to do this with all his girls.

He texted Artie every once and a while just to check in on how Brittany, Tina, and Sugar were doing. Sometimes he even asked about Lauren since he knew Artie was still in the AV Club with her.

He'd send dirty texts to Santana when he knew she had class because he knew how much it annoyed her, and that's the only reason she'd even bother to respond. Then he always followed it up with asking for details about the Louisville cheer squad.

Quinn would email him every couple of weeks because they promised to keep in touch after graduation. Sometimes he'd email her back, but usually he'd just text her to let her know he got it even though he knew she'd rather have an email seeing as how much she hated text speak. He could probably try harder, but Yale didn't seem all that interesting, and he really didn't want to fuck up his attachments and accidentally send her his nudes like he did to his boss that one time. (Which is coincidentally why he no longer worked at Chick-Fil-A.)

Thankfully, Puck didn't have to worry about contacting Rachel. Rachel took care of that herself. She sent out the same impersonal email to everyone from glee once a month just to let them all know what she and Finn have been doing. She then posted the same information on Facebook just in case someone missed it the first time around.

It made him feel useful. _Capable_. Puck was _not_ a deadbeat. He was just in a bit of a jam and needed to do something else that would make him feel good about himself. And so, because he was being such a _nice_ _guy_ , he didn't really think twice about going to Mercedes for a favor.

"How's my favorite singer on the west coast?"

Mercedes frowned at him as she leaned on her doorframe. "She's great, and now she's wondering what it is you want. It's early."

"Isn't flattery supposed to get you everywhere?"

She let him in, shutting the door behind her. "Is this just you flirting again or-"

"Hey. The Puckersaurus doesn't need to flirt. I persuade."

She snorted. "I'll try and remember that."

"Seriously, though, I just wanted to hang out. I haven't seen you in a week."

"Yeah, school's been busy." She waved off before smiling. "So I met this guy-"

"I'm homeless." It was probably a bit rude to just cut her off, but Puck was about two seconds flat from wimping out and having a breakdown.

"What?"

"I lost my house because of some douchebags. Then the motel manager where I was staying chucked all my stuff. I have nothing but twenty bucks and a lighter. Did you know California has been in a drought since the middle of summer? No one even has a pool. And everyone who doesn't give a crap about water already has hired cleaners. I am screwed."

"It can't be that bad."

"I need a place to crash."

Her sympathy visibly disappeared. "Wait a minute. Hold up."

"Just for, like, a couple weeks until I get things sorted. I already filled out my job application for Trader Joe's and used your address. I'll get hired and save up for a month and look for my own place. I'm not a bum," he stressed. "I can do this. I just need some help." He didn't really want to get on his knees and start begging. He would, he'd just rather not.

Thankfully, Mercedes finally sighed after a minute or two of resolve. "Fine. But a month, Puck. That's it. And you need to clean up after yourself. I remember what your locker looked like. And smelled like."

"That's all I need, sugar mama. Plus, one month with me and your rep will be off the charts."

"Not in a way a girl wants. We probably shouldn't tell anyone back home about this either."

"Why? Worried they'll think you're getting some much needed Jewish lovin'?"

"Something like that," she deadpanned before shrugging. "I just don't think my parents would be too thrilled about me living with the guy who knocked up the girl we once took in."

He kind of forgot that Quinn lived with them. And the pregnancy thing _was_ usually a reputation killer with parents. He could respect her there. "True. And I kinda don't want everyone to know my business folded anyway."

"Then we're agreed."

"For sure." He grinned before walking over to plop down on her couch. "So do you get cable?"

*

Mercedes's apartment wasn't that big. It had a full-bath and a tiny kitchen with no cabinet space. Its living room was the biggest room and had the nicest view. The thin hallway connected to it led back to the two small bedrooms. Mercedes was already living comfortably in the larger one. The second one across the hall was meant to be a guest room for her friends or when a family member came to visit. Puck had nothing with him so he couldn't even complain about the lack of space.

He did end up getting a part time job at Trader Joe's. The pay was minimal and hardly enough to get his own place on, but he was able to rebuy some clothes and everything else he needed. Mercedes was out of the apartment more than he was. Puck was home alone almost every afternoon. He had begun watching some random Spanish soap opera that he didn't understand but felt was doing a much better job at teaching him the language than Mr. Schue ever did.

Living together wasn't easy, but it wasn't a problem either. Mercedes actually liked the company, and Puck was excellent for keeping her creepy upstairs neighbor away. They entered into a routine of cooking dinner and trading off chores. They each kept their own separate contact with their high school friends. No one put two and two together, and that made this entire situation a breeze.

*

UCLA required more work than she thought it would. Mercedes thought college was supposed to be nightly parties and lax class attendance. She thought homework was something that ended after high school and all she would really have to worry about was midterms and finals. That's what all her teen soaps have told her over the years. Of course, most people stop watching those shows once the characters go away to college anyway so it probably wasn't the best source material for this sort of thing.

As a social scene, however, it was wonderful. She was always great at talking to people, and UCLA was hardly an exception there. Mercedes was making plenty of friends. They held common interests with her, and there wasn't any of that social hierarchy garbage in college that there was in high school. No one even blinked when she casually mentioned that she had once briefly been a cheerleader. She found a new church. She had been asked out twice. It was easy putting down roots in this city, no matter how large. She could make it here in that regard. It was everything else that was giving her issue.

Dreams were not practical. That was just common sense. But Mercedes has had the same dream since she could talk and that was to be a singer. She wanted to sing like her idols that her parents raised her on and have that same soul-touching effect on fans of her own. Glee club made that seem more possible than ever. It wasn't even so much being the best (and underutilized) singer in New Directions. It was watching Kurt still chase his through all his hardships. It was Mike choosing a different future than the one his parents chose for him. It was Quinn tearfully thanking them all for their support after getting into Yale. And while she didn't _want_ to admit it, it was Rachel's obnoxious tunnel-vision and determination to never ever give up despite having every reason to. If any of them could do it, then of course she could as well.

There were no instructions for this. She had skimmed the biographies and wiki pages of her favorite artists, but there was no clear cut way to become a world class diva. Some stories of becoming famous names were simply miraculous and others all seemed to boil down to connections. Mercedes couldn't rely on a miracle, and the connections she should be getting were non-existent. Her contract was not what she thought it was, and her job was not one she wanted. She knew that in order to make it and defy all odds, she needed to stick with her dream no matter how hard it got. But sometimes it was just so much easier to cry over a tub of Rocky Road after having a bad day. That's where Puck came home to find her.

"Holy crap. Is this cramps or something? My mom usually uses a heating pad."

Mercedes squinted because _what the fuck?_ Boys. "No, this isn't cramps."

Puck took a seat on the couch next to her. "Sorry. I've never really known how to deal with crying chicks. Or anything leaky. Do you want a hug? Maybe some Kleenex? You look like you need Kleenex." She shot him a glare. "What about a beer? Sex? I can do that."

Mercedes lost the glare and chuckled, even if he was being serious. "You wish, hound dog."

"There we go." He smiled for a moment. "Do you want to talk about it? What happened? Do I need to beat someone up? I mean, I'd rather do it tomorrow because it's Friday and I wanna catch up on this week's _Quieros_ , but you can just give me a name and I'll take care of it."

She wished it was that simple.

"I'm a backup singer," Mercedes confessed quietly. "I've been lying because I've been too embarrassed to tell the truth. That's not like me. I don't even feel like myself." She dropped her spoon into her ice cream, crestfallen. "That record deal that Sam posting my video got me was for singing backup on a label for whatever new, up-and-coming pop stars the producers think they found next. A bunch of pretty, skinny white girls who can't carry a tune on their own." It was worse than it ever was in glee. She couldn't completely fault Mr. Schue for not knowing what the hell he was doing. These producers were professionals, and they still didn't respect her.

"That's crap. You should sue."

"For what? Being too excited and too stupid to read the fine print?"

"You're not stupid. I wouldn't have even read the big print." Mercedes laughed again. "Look, it sucks, but maybe it could work out. Like, you'll probably make some connections, right? You know, and they'll be hearing your voice so they'll see how hot and talented you are."

"And if they don't? I was so worried about this last year. I know my voice. I know its capabilities. But being one of the best singers in a glee club and a church choir in Lima, Ohio is not an accomplishment. There are plenty of people who can sing, but only a few of them have what it takes to make it." Sam made her believe otherwise when those doubts started creeping in, but what if the two of them were wrong?

"I take it back. Maybe you are stupid because you definitely have whatever it takes. With the right song, you're unstoppable," he assured her convincingly. "I'm gonna tell you something that you gotta promise never to repeat to anyone because it really kills the image I got going." She had to nod before he'd continue. "Remember when you sang that 'Telling You' song the first year in glee for Sectionals? I had to pinch myself and keep thinking about Rainbow Road so I wouldn't bawl like a ten year-old _girl_. So just walk in there with all your confidence diva-whateverness and get them to notice you. Just don't get fired because we kinda need the money."

"Right," she drawled slowly. His job situation needed to be fixed like yesterday.

"Okay and try to remember everything I'm telling you so when you do eventually get famous and the dough starts rolling in you can pass some along in gratitude with an attitude." He smirked.

"And what are we going to do about you in the meantime?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you gotta get your business back on track. It's why you moved out here. You're a lot of things, Puck, but I never thought you were a quitter."

"I'm not," he growled. "I have ambition. I just don't have any pools to clean. It's a pretty competitive business here. I probably would have been better off staying at home, but I'm not going back there just to prove everyone who said I was nothing but a Lima Loser right."

"So then start looking outside the city. Los Angeles isn't the only place in California that has swimming pools. See what you need is some damn good marketing, and I just happen to be taking a web designing class. Interested in hiring me on as a business manager?"

"Depends. Can you work for free?"

"We'll call it your rent."

"Deal."

Mercedes promised to tell truth after that and got Puck to do so with her. If anyone were to ask about their jobs that is. It wasn't something to be ashamed about. They were doing a lot better than some other people, and they had moved all the way out to Los Angeles. Lima was just a distant memory, and she had faith that one day they would be successful if they worked hard enough and paid their dues.

They would not tell anyone they were living together, though.

*

Rachel Berry was still one of the most annoying people that Santana has ever met. She could no longer be at the top of her list because by now, Santana's met way worse, and Rachel had warmed her up due to her incessant, competitive love for glee. And Santana could respect that. Mostly because it benefited her. However, there were times when Rachel Berry (grudgingly-Hudson) was absolutely impossible. Her unnecessarily bloated words had a tendency to stick. Occasionally, that worked in the girl's favor, but usually, it was why no one could stand being around her for any extended amount of time. _Berry should really work on that._

They had fought the last time they had an actual conversation. It was all because Santana was honestly trying to be a good friend and help Quinn…in her own way. Unfortunately, Rachel was the one to take the blow, and they _were_ both drunk so they _may_ have said some things that maybe shouldn't have been said. For her part, Santana didn't really regret any of them. It wasn't her business, but it wasn't like she had been wrong about anything. Rachel probably didn't regret what she said either seeing as how she didn't immediately apologize like she usually did. Pathetically. And well, Rachel wasn't entirely wrong herself, and that's what was so damn annoying.

Brazen and whiny, Rachel had reiterated the fact that Santana had no options beyond going to Louisville and cheering. Then, as an added shot, she had pointed out how Santana was probably going to lose Brittany now that they'd be living in separate states. If she hadn't spent the previous five minutes dangling Finn and Quinn's issues in front of the dwarf's face, Santana may have hit her. But she figured they were even.

Louisville wasn't her first choice, not by a long shot, but her parents had wanted her to go to school. It was free tuition and not too far from home; from Brittany. Even if it wasn't what she wanted or pictured, Santana still had it better than a lot of other people, and four years wouldn't kill her. She had just survived and thrived through four that would undoubtedly be harder than anything to come after. But college was awful. Maybe if she had applied to her own it wouldn't have been so bad. That's usually what Santana tried to tell herself.

Her roommate was fine but a little plain and too quiet for her taste. Her classes were either hard or they were the same exact classes she took in high school so it was impossible to even feign interest. The squad wasn't that unlike the cheerios. It was just larger with a coach that wasn't certifiable, and the entire campus actually cared about its athletics. Recruitment was a big deal here, and cheering for the teams was supposed to be a blessing. It wasn't. Santana didn't really give a shit about that or some boring rivalry with Kentucky. Like it even mattered. She cared much more about her weigh-ins.

Not that she felt like being honest with herself, but all of that probably would have been fine and workable if it wasn't for her relationship with Brittany and where it currently stood. They hadn't broken up. Not officially. Brittany hadn't wanted to, and Santana was _just_ desperate enough to cling to her. Instead, they called each other and tried to do the Skype sex thing while they waited for something to change. Nothing could possibly change until Brittany finished high school, whenever that would be. Brittany was sucking face with Sam on the side when she got lonely, and Santana was trying to ignore the impulse and desire to go to the dorm that belonged to a girl in her chemistry class. An open relationship was confusing and left too much up for interpretation.

She missed her. She missed seeing her every single morning and calling her every night before bed. But if this is what it meant not to let go, then Santana didn't want to stay attached anymore. It would hurt, but it had to be better than this. She couldn't keep being so Brittany-sick or homesick. That was disgusting to admit. The odds of finding a place and actually moving there that was worse than Lima, Ohio were slim yet Santana had done so wonderfully. She was going to end up needing therapy or something.

Santana had neglected to go to class that day and opted to get in her car and drive. She had no destination in mind but found herself getting on a familiar expressway, merging familiar paths. She wound up at home, and it was nauseating. She didn't even go to her house. She pulled into McKinley's tiny ass parking lot sometime during the afternoon periods. She had never wanted to come back here. Only losers hung around their old high school, never leaving the town they grew up in. She was sure if she went inside or even right down the block to the 7-Eleven, she'd find some of her old classmates. Santana had vowed a long time ago never to be one of them. And she wasn't going to. Stepping out of her car and walking around to the back steps made her see how small everything here was. She was bigger than this and everything attached to it. Always was. Always would be.

Except Brittany was still attached to it and the notion was gut-wrenching.

She walked back to her car and listened to some music as she waited until the final bell. It was Tuesday so she waited a little longer for glee to be over. Schue probably stuck to the same schedules. He never was that inventive. She walked over to Brittany's car a jittery five minutes early and tried to gain some composure as she leaned against it. The blonde's entire face lit up as soon as she saw her and jogged over. Everything suddenly became suffocating.

"Santana? Oh my god, what are you doing here?" Brittany threw her arms around her in a brief hug before pulling back.

She tried to focus on the fact that Brittany didn't detach herself entirely at least. "Thought I'd give myself an unofficial holiday since October doesn't have one."

"I don't know how that's possible, but I'm really happy to see you."

Santana couldn't return the smile in full force. "I wanted to talk. And not over Skype this time."

"Okay. Is this because I couldn't get a picture last time? Because I think I figured out what I was doing wrong."

"It's not about that."

"Um, hey."

They both turned away from each other to the intruding voice. Sam stood awkwardly a couple of feet away. Santana wanted to bite his head off because _of course_ he was here right now. He should just move back home. _His_ family was in Kentucky because if anyone here belonged in Kentucky, it was Sam Evans.

"Samson." Santana's greeting was icy, but he didn't seem to mind. "How's Harry Hamlin?"

Sam smiled. "Great to see you too, Santana."

He was always so genuine. She was pissed that she couldn't properly hate him.

Sam shifted on his feet. "Right. So you guys probably want some time alone. I'll go catch Blaine. Get a ride home from him."

"You sure?" Brittany asked.

"Yeah, later." He left with another grin and a small wave. What a pushover.

" _That's_ who you're dating now?"

Brittany only shrugged. "Sam's nice and cute and a really good kisser. I mean, you dated him."

"And I must have blacked out from boredom because I don't remember any of it."

"Be nice."

She relented. He wasn't what was important here. "Look, um, can you just follow me in your car? I don't really want to do this here either."

Brittany finally lost her happy expression. "It's not good news, is it?"

"I don't know. We'll see."

Santana drove to a park she knew Brittany liked to walk around. They had gone there together over the years too many times to count. Brittany parked next to her, and they naturally gravitated over to the swings.

Brittany didn't waste any time with her concern. "What's wrong?"

What wasn't wrong? But she didn't come here to complain about school. Brittany was proud of her for going, and she didn't want to hurt her further that she was possibly going to.

"I need to know where we stand. I don't want to lose you, but I can't do the whole non-exclusive experimenting thing. You're supposed to do that before you come out. _We_ _did_ that before I came out. Either we're together and it's long distance or we're not. In between doesn't work."

Brittany frowned. "You're breaking up with me?"

"Or getting back together," she was quick to interject. That was the side Santana wanted. "Thinking about Sam smothering you with his amphibian frog lips is a nightmare. Especially when I don't engage with anyone else because I'm worried about how it will affect you. That's not fair."

"Do you like someone? We said that would be fine."

"No, but it's a big campus with plenty of attractive women and I like sex just as much as you do. Preferably I'd like to just keep having it with you, but we don't see each other and I'm not going to run off like an idiot and get married like Finn and Rachel did."

"Oh. Well we can go have sex right now. My parents are at work and-"

"No, that's not what I'm saying," she cleared up that misunderstanding, grabbing at the other girl's hands. "Brittany, I love you. You know I love you."

She smiled easily. "I love you too."

"I want to be with you. Always."

"I feel the same."

"But I want to be with you like I was last year."

"Santana, we were and it wasn't working."

"I know," she sighed. It was still difficult to accept. "So I think we just need a clean break. You can be with Sam or anyone else you want, and I can find someone to casually have some fun with without feeling guilty." That would be nice and not at all crippling. "Then when summer starts and I have to come back home, maybe we can start again then. Or not if we're with someone else. I don't know what's going to happen."

"Would we still be friends?"

" _Best_ friends," she corrected.

Santana couldn't keep the tears at bay when Brittany started openly crying. "I'm really sorry I didn't graduate with you."

She reached forward to brush at Brittany's cheeks. "That's not something you ever have to apologize for."

"I know. I wasn't apologizing. I'm still sorry."

Going back to Louisville was easier than driving to Lima was. Staying at Louisville was easy in general for a while. Brittany had been encouraging and told her to date other girls. In her words, Santana should love girls because she worked so hard to start doing so in the first place. Brittany was only trying to be sweet and act as a supporting friend as she always had, but it was almost insulting. No one wanted their ex to happily tell them to date someone new while they had already moved on. But Santana knew that wasn't her intention and listened to the advice. She did go to her chemistry friend's dorm, and she did make use of her partying skills. It was nice, but it did nothing to fill that dark, sucking hole that was her college life.

As it turned out, her issues with Louisville had nothing to do with Brittany at all.

*

By the time Santana was receiving a week off for Thanksgiving, she could no longer take it. She couldn't take any of it. Not school. Not cheering. Not being broken up. Not going home for dinner.

It was at her house with her mother's side of their family. Her father's side had been somewhat fractured ever since she came out to her abuela.

So dinner had been awful too.

Brittany was thankfully throwing a glee reunion party on the following night since everyone else had come home too. Santana knew what she wanted to finally do before she even got there. Diligently, she caught up with all of her friends and former co-members. She listened patiently about how New Directions weren't as talented now that she and a couple of the other seniors were gone. She tried not to roll her eyes when Kurt bragged about his internship or when Quinn played coy and shared little. She didn't hear what Finn or Rachel said at all. Puck and Mercedes were the only ones she actually needed to pay attention to. Well, Mercedes was.

After admitting to everyone that Louisville was not working and she was done, Santana weighed her options. Last year at graduation, she had talked about it with her mother and Brittany. College was the smart thing to do then, but now she could do whatever she wanted. New York offered the chance at fame and diversity she wanted, but Berry was there honeymooning with her Jolly Green Giant and Santana didn't want to stand around with Kurt, playing voyeur. She could just stay home and get a job for the next six months or so and wait until Brittany graduated. _If she graduated_. They could get back together. But that only felt safe. And kind of humiliating. Santana had finished high school and escaped Lima and reminded herself of that one more time. She still wouldn't go back now. Not even for Brittany.

So Santana's choice was clear: Mercedes.

Specifically, Mercedes's apartment.

"You want to move to LA?"

Once again, she practiced admirable self-control. Santana refrained from rolling her eyes at the girl repeating exactly what she just said. "Have you gone deaf?"

Mercedes continued to look uncomfortable. "It's just…unexpected."

"Why? Do you hear Santana Lopez and automatically think Louisville, Kentucky? I don't think so."

"But into my apartment?"

"It's a two-bedroom. I read your updates."

"It's a _small_ two-bedroom. The second bedroom's practically a closet. You wouldn't be comfortable there."

"Is this a lesbian joke?"

"What? No."

"I don't care about size." Okay, so _that_ might be a lesbian joke. Santana smirked. "This is going to happen. It _should_ happen. Our exes are mutually sucking face. You and I are meant to be together."

"That is some backwards ass logic if I've ever heard any."

"Look, I still have that money my mom gave me. And I'd get a job. It's not like I'd be living with you rent-free. I'll even pay for your snack budget. I mean, that's gotta be, like, half the food bill."

Mercedes glared. "Yeah, see, this is the problem we'll have."

"You being too prickly?"

"No, you being a bitch. And for no reason."

"Please. You know I love you. It's why I tease. Feel free to take shots back. It's what friends do. I would have killed Quinn years ago if I couldn't point out how much of a fuckup she is."

"Or we could just take no shots at all."

Santana realized that she wasn't going to win this. Not now anyway. She would need to be the one to cave. She had no leverage here. "Do I need to leave Puck out of this?"

"No, he's fair game."

"Fine. I can accept that compromise. I guess this means that you've got your first roommate. Congrats on it being me."

Mercedes just groaned. "I'm going to regret this."

*

Puck was the one to help move Santana out of her dorm. He wasn't sure how he got stuck with that job. He didn't even hear about her moving out until the very last minute. He should have since she was going to be moving into their apartment. Well, okay, _Mercedes's_ apartment. He had to keep reminding himself of that. This wasn't permanent.

Santana had called him and very specifically told him to fly out before her finals schedule. He couldn't blame her for not wanting to take them or write those hundred-paged papers. They were basically the worst invention ever. Plus, she was paying for his ticket and the gas for her car that would be driving them back home over the next couple of days. The trip would probably be more fun this time since he wouldn't be alone. There was that at least.

He didn't know if he should be the one to fill Santana in on the fact that in a couple of days she'd have _two_ roommates. There was no way he and Mercedes would be able to hide this from her. Ultimately, he figured it'd be better to just wait until they got to LA. They were a bit of a rush to finish packing anyway. They wanted to be gone by the time Santana's current roommate finished her classes. Santana planned on just leaving her a goodbye note explaining that she was moving out west with some friends from high school. Kind of a dick move in his opinion, but Santana was being quiet which meant she was seriously upset about something. He would rather lighten the mood. He couldn't take being trapped in a car with her like this.

"How the fuck do people live here?" he joked. Sort of. Her room was pretty small. Smaller than Mercedes's second room. What even were dorms? How did people manage to have sex in beds that were barely made for one?

"Uncomfortably."

"Thank god I'm never going to school again."

"You and me both." She took one last look around her side of the room. "I think that's it."

"You're really never gonna go back? I know you like to play it all hot and badass even though you cry about everything, but you're not dumb either. Like, aren't you supposed to be a lawyer and ruin people's lives or be a doctor like your old man?"

"How did I go from ruining people's lives to saving them? Can you really picture me doing that?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I can picture you giving people nicer boobs."

"You're here to carry my things. Not give commentary."

"As my lady commands."

"God, you have turned into such a loser."

"Hey. Keep going and I'll make you lug your own shoes around."

Santana relented in her stance and offered him an actual explanation. He wasn't sure what he said to earn one, but he wasn't about to interrupt. "College isn't what I want. Not right now. And you're right. I'm not an idiot, but I'm still barely managing a D average. Having to redo this semester won't be the worst thing."

"Yeah, that's cool. Trust me. I get it." You didn't need to be dumb to not put in the effort. "Except you're also giving up a lot of free cash and D's isn't failing. You could stay."

She shook her head. "I can't be a cheerleader anymore. And I can't live in the middle of nowhere where everyone weighs too much and smells like fried cheese."

"Then I hope you like people smelling like kale."

"What the fuck is kale?"

"Don't ask." He picked up a box off her dresser and smiled at the picture on top. It was of New Directions after their Nationals win last year. "You miss it?"

"McKinley? Seriously? No. No, I really don't." Puck shrugged to himself and placed the photo back inside of the box. Santana surprised him when she started talking again. "But I miss Brittany," she sighed, sitting down on her bed for the final time. "I miss the Troubletones being flawless and bailing everyone out. I miss Quinn even though she's allergic to fun." Puck chuckled at that one. "And Sam sucking up everyone's oxygen supply with his enormous face gill. And scaring Artie. And having to suffer through the Changs and Kurt and Blaine being so disgustingly happy together. I even miss Berry's crazy and reminding everyone that Finn's nothing but a giant mound of Play-Doh." He waited for her to start weeping like she had a tendency to do in these moments, but nothing came. She just sounded tired. "And I _really_ miss singing every day for no reason."

Puck missed all that too and more. Not that he'd be admitting it, though. He actually _did_ want to keep up his badassness. "See. Total badass," he teased and deflected like a pro.

"Shut up."

*

Mercedes did not want Santana as a roommate. Well, she still didn't want Puck living with her either, but at least he was easier to control. Santana had turned out to be a friend. She was a great duet partner and was surprisingly loyal when she felt the need to be. But the girl was also incessant with her ragging. And she would put herself first regardless. Santana actually had money to pay for rent, and Mercedes feared that in a matter of days she would end up feeling like a guest in her own apartment. Santana would try and take over. It was just a fact.

Moving her in was rather simple. She didn't have much beyond clothes. Puck and Mercedes had cleared out the spare bedroom for her days ago. He would be shifting to the living room for the time being. Mercedes didn't like that either, but it was the only option they had left. They needed a bigger place.

"Well, that's all of it." Santana dropped her bags before looking to Puck and reaching up to pat his head. "I guess this means you can go until we need you again."

He swatted her away and went nowhere, only shooting a glance to Mercedes. This wasn't going to be pleasant. They both looked over to a distracted Santana as they planned to break it to her.

"What is that smell?" Santana's face crumpled up as she walked around the living room. "It's like…sweat and ass trying to be covered up by bar soap. That's boy-smell. Why is there boy-smell here?" Santana stepped back and scrutinized her roommates. It didn't take long for her to realize that there were two of them. "Whoa, what did I just walk into?"

"Not what you're thinking," Mercedes told her briskly. It didn't matter. Satan already had her very wrong thoughts circling.

"You two are totally shacking up."

"No," Puck jumped in. "I just needed a place to stay since my business wasn't working out as well as I thought it would. Relax. I'm sleeping on the couch now."

"Yeah, but no one really knows this so if you can keep it to yourself despite how much you like telling people's secrets, that'd be really great." Fine, so Mercedes spilled secrets too, but she didn't do it to cause drama and have a good cackle. She just liked gossip.

"Why is it a secret in the first place?" Santana challenged. "I'm going to fun figuring out what you're up to."

"We're not up to anything," Puck tried again in vain.

"Of course not," Santana answered politely. _Too_ _politely_. "Don't worry, though. Since that you're being nice enough to let me move in, it'll be _our_ little secret. We wouldn't want anyone to find out."

Great. Now she and Puck were probably going to be blackmailed for the rest of the year. Mercedes really needed to stop putting herself in these situations.

*

Santana did not make the three of them living together difficult like Mercedes or Puck had expected. She made her comments, of course, but was mainly busy focusing on her own life. She spent most mornings on lazy job hunts and then would check in to watch _Quiero amarte_ with Puck. Santana would translate the dialogue for him which, frankly, made him like his show less so instead they started making up their own storylines. The music cues made it easy. Puck actually loved having Santana around. He never had to worry about being too crude with her.

Mercedes had other opinions. Santana spent too much money at the store and was still on a cheerio schedule so she was always up before everyone else. That meant she always got in the shower first. Santana's showers lasted an hour because she couldn't be bothered to care about drought conspiracies. Their apartment never had hot water which was impossible to deal with on the mornings Mercedes had classes scheduled. She had begun to set her alarm early and give Santana a taste of her own medicine. Santana did not appreciate it but was up for the challenge.

Santana would drink most of the juice and use most of the milk in her cereal and leave barely enough for a bowl left in the box. It was what Mercedes usually did to her. Santana thought it was obviously inconsiderate since Mercedes lectured her on not buying too many groceries in the first place. It could have all been avoided. But once her roommate started stealing her bathroom time, Santana attacked the kitchen. Being even was important.

Puck stopped eating cereal and took less showers. It was safer to just stay out of it and run away when they asked for a deciding judge. He would _not_ be put in the middle. God forbid they didn't like his refereeing and teamed up to turn on him. He wouldn't survive that.

*

Santana eventually manipulated her way into a job at Starbucks. It was a terrible job because she had to spend the whole day smiling at people and asking them how she can serve them, but it had good benefits. It wasn't like she planned on sticking with it forever either. It was all temporary until she was given her own reality show or however that worked. She didn't know why she didn't have one yet. She was hot and funny and could be a total bitch. That's exactly what reality TV was made for. Plus, she was a lesbian, and networks liked to pretend they gave a fuck about representation. _AfterEllen_ should be calling by now.

In order to help her own cause, Santana took it upon herself to write, direct, and star in her own commercial. Okay, so it was Puck's commercial. But she had done everything herself.

She was supposed to major in business at Louisville. She didn't get around to those classes, but she still knew what was up. Mercedes and Puck had been trying to kick-start his business by lowering his fees in smaller neighborhoods outside the city. He was able to set up some clients so far, but it wouldn't matter. As someone who was popular pretty much from the second she stepped onto a playground, Santana knew better than anyone that it was all about advertising. That was how people remembered you. So she made an investment in Puckerman Pools, hired a small film crew, and grabbed Puck for some shirtless background shots in her commercial. It was set to broadcast locally, and it gave her major bragging points with everyone from glee. It was a solid win-win.

Mercedes didn't appreciate her lack of involvement. Up until now this had been her and Puck's thing. They were bordering on a diva-off, and frankly, Santana didn't really see the need for Puck at all. She wanted to just team up with Mercedes to run the business side of things while he did all the labor. They would be unfailing together, but even though Santana threw in some Troubletone love and reminders, Mercedes still declined because _she_ was the manager. This sort of thing happened all the time. Mercedes and Puck already had a lot established prior to Santana's moving in. Even pointless things like the DVR scheduling. It was _exhausting_. Santana was still convinced that they had been hooking up before she got there or were still probably hooking up whenever she was out. At the very least, they've thought about it. It was obvious. They treated her like nothing but a third wheel.

Santana Lopez was nobody's third _anything_.

Unfortunately, however, her own dating life was still on the lackluster side of things. She had gotten to the very desperate point of wing-manning with Puck. It was their thing now. They went out on weekends or nights off together to see if they could find someone worthwhile. Puck usually just moped over his entire life while Santana found a girl who she might want to go home with. He would have been much better at this years ago.

"Straight ahead, three o'clock," she called and rolled her eyes when Puck looked in the wrong direction. "The other way."

Puck took in the table she was pointing out with a verbose, "Eh."

"What? Not enough bling?"

"Why are you asking me anyway? Is it because she's not blonde?" he tossed back.

"Actually, I'm trying to avoid reminders, but at least I'm putting myself out there."

"We're in a gay bar. No one here even likes dick."

"It's a gay _friendly_ bar. I'm sure there's a housewife or two desperate enough for your attention."

"Whatever."

She couldn't listen to much more of this. It made going out with him a total drag. "Jesus. Do everyone a favor and ask her out already. She'll probably shoot you down because she's not brain-dead but then we can all move on and my living arrangement will have improved."

"You're weirdly obsessed with something that isn't going on."

"Please. I've gotten to be pretty much an expert at spotting secret relationships. Just ask Quinn. I'm two-for-two with her." She grinned slyly. Sometimes she really did miss having Quinn around to harass. It was always just so easy, and she knew how to give as well as she got. Puck laid down like a dog, and Mercedes pretended she was too mature and placed herself above it all. Without the challenge, it wasn't even fun anymore.

"We're friends. And like you said she wouldn't go out with someone like me anyway. She probably just wants another Christian goober like Sam. She still talks to him."

Santana scowled at the small reminder of Sam Evans's existence. "Ugh. What is it with him anyway?"

"I can't believe he matches my glee girl scorecard. I knew I should have dated Sugar when I had the chance. But I thought that Asperger's thing meant she was mentally impaired."

"Yeah, not how it works, Puck." She shook her head. "And that's pathetic."

"Shut up. You're the one who dated him and gave him a tally."

"Okay, I'm really going to need people to stop bringing that up."

They released mutual sighs.

Puck nodded ahead of them. "Four o'clock, table for two."

"Not bad."

*

There were more Jewish people here than in Lima so Puck had more options for Hanukkah this year. He was just happy his mom was so pleased about it. He didn't get to go home and see her or his sister until he got the two days off for Christmas, though. Santana was in a similar situation at work. It left them alone together in the apartment for about a week since Mercedes was able to fly home immediately for UCLA's winter break. That sucked, but they all met up as soon as they were all in Lima again. Quinn and Mike had come back too, and everyone around from glee stopped by Mr. Schuester's place to wish him a surprise happy holiday. Then they had to fly back to LA earlier than they would have liked, and Mercedes chose to come with them this time.

They were going to start taking down the meager decorations they had set up when they got back. It was all over now. Or it was supposed to be. But then Kurt was emailing them a few days later to invite them out to New York where he was throwing a New Year's Eve party with Rachel and Finn at their loft. Hummel had jokingly referred to and equated them to 'PMS' which they did not appreciate. He also apparently knew that Puck was living with the girls since Mercedes _had_ to tell him which Puck did not appreciate. He just would have liked a little heads up, is all. He didn't even think Mercedes and Kurt were still that close. It meant Finn and Rachel probably knew. So Quinn would have to have known. And Blaine. And everyone else. He had to ask what the point of it all was.

Mercedes immediately told Kurt they'd come out, and Santana still had some money left over from graduation so it was easy to book another two tickets. Puck found it more difficult, and he wasn't about to borrow money from them. It had been hard enough to just save up for one ticket. So he did what anyone sensible in his position would do. He donated some bodily fluids. Unfortunately, it was just his blood. He wished it was his little swimmers since that would earn him more. Plus, women would be lucky to get their hands on some Puckerman. Beth was an _awesome_ kid. And sure, some of that was because of Quinn like the hair and the eyes and the face, but a lot it came from him. He could see that. It would probably be the same result with someone else. However, Puck didn't have any health insurance. So even though everyone didn't believe him when he said he got a vasectomy, he did and had no way to pay for the bill for the reversal surgery.

Blood thankfully did the job, and he managed to scrape some extra cash together by signing up at UCLA's med school to let some students take his blood pressure and test his pee. College experiments were always useful. Puck had his ticket and was free to go with. He was excited. He really wanted to see Finn and his place. He had no idea how his best friend was able to handle everything. It was great that Finn had someone like Rachel to love him and marry him, but Puck could never tie himself down to someone like that. Not for at least another ten years. _Maybe twenty._ Just definitely enough time to get everything out of his system. Because sex with the same person forever sounded pretty bogus. That's not what people's bodies were created to do. Penguins did that. It was unnatural. Finn had only ever been with one other girl, and she turned out to be a lesbian. That was awful. And it was probably worse for Rachel now that he was thinking about it. Puck just hoped they were happy enough together to ignore all that.

The trio's loft was pretty nice and had a lot of spare room. They had to use dividers to make up for their lack of walls, but they weren't sleeping all on top of each other either. Santana agreed that lofts were the way to go. Living here would be much more comfortable for three. For tonight, it just made a great party pad. The other guests would be arriving soon, and Puck was already getting started. Because tonight was the night. See, Puck had a plan. He could do that if he tried. He could plan. He could be romantic. It didn't happen often, but when it did, it usually worked out well for him. And New Year's was supposed to be the most romantic holiday after Valentine's Day. He didn't really want to wait until then. And the next closest one was King Martin Luther's Day. Mercedes wouldn't appreciate him using that one.

The problem he was having with his plan was that other people were already ruining it. It needed to start now when it was just the glee club seniors. He couldn't start it when a bunch of randoms showed. It wouldn't make sense. But Rachel and Quinn had left to run to the store before their plane had even landed and they _still_ weren't back yet. It was really fucking up his night. He was getting pretty pissed off. "What are they even _doing?_ "

Santana snickered. "I'm sure Quinn's enjoying herself, whatever it is."

"Uh, shopping is just really rough here," Finn tried to explain. "And it's a holiday so."

"Yes, _and_ they decided to walk to avoid the holiday commute," Kurt added on then shuddered. "You should have seen Christmas."

That all sounded like bullshit. "But over an hour?"

"You know Rachel." Mercedes glanced at him. "She's probably driving Quinn insane looking for the world's most perfect napkins."

Finn frowned. "Well, actually we have a budget list and-"

Kurt made a face at his stepbro until the loft's door was opening and in came bags and a conversation.

Puck crossed the floor hastily to greet their stragglers. "Finally. Speak of the devil. And the only other hot Jew."

"Funny," Quinn said dryly before pulling him in for a hug; Rachel following right after her.

"I'm glad you guys got in okay." Rachel moved over to give Mercedes a matching embrace and then turned to her husband. "Finn, did you put there sleeping bags away like I told you?"

"Yeah, about that," Santana cut in. "I didn't actually bring one because a.) who the hell owns a sleeping bag? And b.) you have a perfectly nice couch over there waiting to be used."

Rachel's smile was rigid. "Well, Santana, _we_ happen to own more than one sleeping bag that we used before we were fully able to furnish, and you'll just have to use one of those because I've already agreed to let Quinn sleep on our couch."

"You mean when you invited her before you invited us?"

"It's fine," Quinn told them both, obviously trying to stop the argument everyone felt was coming. "We can fight about it later."

"Or we can just share." Santana kept smirking at Rachel before glancing away to give Quinn a deliberate onceover. "What do you say, Q? Up for it?"

"Please say yes." Puck leered until Mercedes's hand came down on top of his head. "Ouch!"

Finn grinned, obviously trying not to laugh at him. "Dude, didn't you wanna say something?"

"Right." Puck stopped and looked back at a snickering Mercedes once more. "Well now that we're all _finally_ together–except for Chang who ditched us like a loser–time for a toast." He passed two cups that he had already set out to Rachel and Quinn. They hesitated. "What? Don't you trust me?" They both just stared at him. "Don't answer that."

"On with it, Puckerman," Kurt urged wryly. "The beer will be warm by the time you finish."

"Fine." He glared briefly before raising his cup. "To getting out of Lima, fucking, Ohio." It was not as elegant as he originally planned and he was going to say more, but the timing threw him off his game. They all seemed to agree with the overall feeling, though, so he wouldn't complain. Santana especially.

"Here, here." She finished her drink early.

"While I don't appreciate the added vulgarity, it's a lovely sentiment, Noah." He chuckled and pulled Rachel under his arm again. Rachel better never change.

The night got back on track once everyone else began arriving. It was an oddly great party considering who was throwing it. Puck liked Finn's work friends. They were pretty cool even if they were kind of old. They were definitely better than Rachel and Kurt's friends from NYADA who were all basically carbon copies of _Rachel and Kurt_. Catching up with Quinn was always cool even if he didn't know what the fuck an ethics class was. Santana was making herself the center of attention with a couple of girls. He was happy for her, and it meant she'd be distracted. It'd be better if she left them alone.

Midnight is where his plan hit a bit of a snag. It couldn't have happened at a worse time since that _was_ his plan. His _entire_ plan. Everything else had just been buttering Mercedes up. It had been proving that he was a good, mature friend. He didn't even get drunk. The right song was playing. The countdown was on. It was the perfect time to kiss someone. So he planted one on her in surprise. For about five seconds it was as great as he imagined it would be. But then she was pushing him away and smacking him over the head again.

It was a major midnight party fail.

And maybe it'd be best to start growing some hair back for some type of cushion.

*

Mercedes's head wanted to split in two. Today it was "Ebony and Ivory" being played on their stereo. Every couple of mornings after she had finished getting dressed and ready, Puck would do something he thought was clever and subtle to try and ask her out. It had been going on since New Year's and had, frankly, gotten annoying. It would be better if he actually said the words and literally asked her to go out with him. At least then she could turn him down cleanly.

She wasn't expecting a New Year's kiss. Well, she imagined maybe meeting some fine NYADA student who could keep up with her vocally and having one amazing night in New York with him that resulted in a midnight kiss, but it wasn't something she was planning for. Kurt wasn't at NYADA yet, and it wasn't like Rachel had the best of taste. A guy like that probably wasn't even going to be there so it was just a harmless holiday fantasy.

Puck kissing her instead wasn't entirely a surprise, she guessed. But only because it was Puck. She could have just as easily pictured him trying to kiss Quinn on New Year's or Rachel had she not been married or Santana had she been straight. That's just what Puck did, and she didn't want him doing it with her. She'd rather have his respect than his tongue poking at her lips. She was at least able to play it off as a casual, friendly kiss. And she had been able to use Kurt, Quinn, and Santana as distractions once the party ended. They made it easy to avoid whatever the hell was working through that boy's head. Unfortunately, only Santana lived with them, and she was being no help at all. Santana would only offer lewd gestures once one of them turned away from each other.

This all needed to stop. He was a friend, a remarkably good one, and he would only break her heart anyway. That's what he did. He'd pursue one girl until she tired of him or he found someone better. Neither potential ending would work for her. So after thoroughly massaging her temples, Mercedes turned off their stereo and effectively turned him down yet again before trying to start on breakfast.

Puck didn't sit idly by today. She wasn't sure what made this morning different, but he strode right into the kitchen after her. "We need to talk."

She shut the fridge to address him properly. Maybe she was the one overreacting anyway. She hoped she was. "Did you forget to use dryer sheets again? My weave can't handle another sweater mess."

"No. And I meant about New York."

Well, there went that theory.

"What about it?"

"We kissed. Like, with our mouths."

"Yeah, at midnight on New Year's. That's what's supposed to happen. It's not like it means anything."

"It meant something to me."

That was what she was afraid of. "Puck, we're friends."

"Maybe we can try being more than friends. You can be the north pole," his eyes smoothly flickered to her chest, "and I'll be the south pole. Either way our lips will still be just as magnetic."

Mercedes had learned a long time ago that Noah Puckerman was the cheesiest of cheeseballs. How he got so many girls to go out with him would always be a mystery to her. She tried not to be too embarrassed for him when responding.

"I'm sorry but we live together, and I'm just not down with something that complicated. And honestly, I'm not attracted to you like that." She shrugged.

"Now I know you're lying. You've seen my arms, right? Great arms are important to you. I remember that much." He started to roll up his sleeves before she reached out and stopped him.

That was true, but it was also irrelevant at the moment. "Puck, I'm not interested. I'm sure there's some poor girl out there perfect for you and who wants to get up on all that," she gestured over him, "but she isn't me."

He didn't look happy, but it really was for the best.

*

Santana hated weddings. They were boring, and you had to sit there and awkwardly watch a couple cry because it'd be rude to laugh at them while they told each other a bunch of things that should really be private. When she got married it was going to be on a beach at sunset with her closest friends, and they were all going to dance and drink together. It would be a _party_. It definitely wouldn't be some church scripted nonsense that was obviously only happening for the free gifts. (Though, she did still want the free gifts.) Mr. Schue's wedding was unfortunately set to be the latter.

Despite his former students living all over the country and no longer _being_ his students, the man had sent them all invitations and begged them to come to his wedding. It was so pathetic that Santana agreed to go. Will Schuester really needed a friend. There had to be some lonely person out there who was just as desperate and in need of adult human contact that would befriend him. Maybe not, though. Because Schue was also a huge cheapskate. Along with his invitations, he asked every one of _'his kids'_ to sing one of glee's old love songs at his wedding reception. He claimed it was because he missed hearing them sing, but Santana was pretty sure it was because he was just too cheap to pay for both a band _and_ a singer. There was no way he missed their voices. He was probably creepy enough in that loving, blubbering way that he had them saved and recorded somewhere. Well, he probably had Finn's voice saved at least. Santana would bet money on that one.

She had barely practiced with Puck and Mercedes over the last couple of days. By barely, she meant not at all. They all had some idea on what they were going to sing so it was easy to just watch crappy horror films and avoid the idea of Valentine's Day instead. Single people shouldn't have to sing love songs at their teachers' wedding on Valentine's weekend. _What kind of bait and switch bullshit?_ Puck was just going to sing a solo or whatever, and Santana had wanted to kill "River Deep, Mountain High" with Mercedes again but was turned down. Mercedes had other plans, and well, it was probably for the best. They'd only be throwing everyone else's mediocrity back in their faces, and this was supposed to be a happy occasion. So Santana agreed to just sing with Quinn when she called asking for a favor.

The whole afternoon should be boring at best and a glee disaster at worst. It _would_ be pretty funny if Emma Pillsbury, who had spent years marrying other men despite wanting to run through them oiled curls, blew Schue off and dropped him at the altar. Santana doubted that would happen, though. And she had been so instrumental in getting the woman to say yes by singing her that proposal song, Santana would probably sue for emotional damages anyway. She could use the money, and Coach Sylvester would find her a good attorney. But Rachel would just claim it was her song too and put a halt to the proceedings. Berry was most likely one of the few happy for this wedding. She was always delusional and romantic. It was probably her, Finn (by sheer force), and Blaine that were excited for their instructor. And Brittany. She had seemed excited on the phone. But Brittany loved weddings and their friends. It wasn't about Schue's gross romantic life.

Mercedes didn't care either. She could say otherwise, but it was obvious in how she was stalling just as much as Santana had. The two had agreed to get ready at Santana's house after they flew in and drove home. They had spent more time eating brunch with her mother than caring about getting dressed on time. Santana had finally finished when Maribel rushed her into doing so, and now she sat on her old chair waiting. When Mercedes did finally come out of the bathroom, she was relieved that she was sitting down. The girl looked almost as hot as Santana did.

" _Daaaamn_. Let me be the first to say that we are in a room with a fully functional bed."

Mercedes laughed. "Down, girl. You really need to find someone to go out with. The celibacy thing doesn't work for you."

"Hey! I am not celibate." Really, that was just insulting. She hadn't even been celibate when she was in Quinn's waste of a club. "I made out with that random at Rachel's party. _And_ I went out with that waitress despite her crew cut. I just think you look really great. Besides, that's what weddings are for: Hooking up with friends."

"As much as I'd love to have sex with you, Santana, we're actually going to be late for the wedding if we don't hurry it up."

"I can be quick yet proficient."

She chuckled again. "Stop."

"Whatever. I'll just take comfort in knowing we're going to be the hottest pieces of ass there."

Mercedes removed her heels to drive them over to Puckerman's. He was waiting on his front steps, looking as bored as Santana was. Mercedes parked her car and tossed him her keys as she prepared to put her shoes back on.

"Ladies," he greeted in a suit with an actual tie. Santana would have guessed clip-on.

"Hmm. You clean up pretty good, Puckerman."

"It's the aftershave." He nodded. "You guys look smokin'."

Mercedes shared a knowing look with her. "We know."

Puck held out his arms for the two girls. "Let's go make everyone jealous."

No one bothered commenting on how awesome they were outside of Sam. Quinn tried, but it was too easy to pick up on her being distracted by Rachel Berry's desperation. Santana thought her friend was being an idiot and that the mess she was obviously getting herself into would only lead to yet another Quinnsane breakdown. She should know by now to stay out of Rachel and Finn's lives. They weren't at all worth it. But whatevs because Santana could say the same thing about her staying out of Quinn's life. She really shouldn't judge. _Much_. She was lost in the sea of her own relationship drama anyway.

The reception consisted of the bartender not serving her despite the reciprocated flirting and having to watch Sam and Brittany dance around each other. It was almost like watching two extremely large toddlers. In all fairness, they were spending just as much time with the other current members of New Directions. Sam looked just as comfortable with Tina, and Brittany smiled the same way at Blaine. Santana missed when she knew exactly what Brittany's expressions meant. All she could deduce was that her best friend was happy, and she started to second guess everything. What if Brittany looked exactly like that last year with her? What if Santana was just seeing what she wanted to because she was in love?

The panic only lasted a moment before she chased it away. Santana knew better. The distance just clouded things sometimes. The rest of the afternoon went a lot smoother, and she left the bar to dance with friends. She mostly stuck with Puck until Brittany finally approached her. She wasn't even sure if they had been avoiding each other or not. If she's being honest, that was worse than if it had been done on purpose.

"Hey. Do you maybe want to get out of here?"

"God yes." She would never go to another wedding before she was twenty-one.

Brittany guided them out of the reception hall and out into the rest of the hotel. The main lobby was full but after walking around the corner, the rest of it was pleasantly free of guests.

"I just sang with Kurt and Tina," was the first thing Brittany said when they sat down on the abrasive loveseat. "It didn't mean anything."

Santana frowned. "Okay."

"I mean it was just for fun. They're my friends and I love them so it was fun. Just like it was with Sam. And that's all it was because we're not kissing anymore or anything. It kind of got boring like you said, but he's still really nice so I sang with him. I want you to know that."

"Britt, you don't need to tell me this. I'm not–It's not like we own each other or something equally gross."

"Duh. But I want to. I know being with Sam was annoying you so I thought this would make you unannoyed. That's all."

"Well thanks I guess." God, this was awkward. Nothing had ever been awkward with them. Brittany didn't seem to notice.

"It's still you." She grabbed at Santana's hand. "I don't know what's going to happen in the future because I still don't know how to open a time portal without sending the earth spinning out into space which would kill everyone and that much power makes me uncomfortable, but you're the one I want there most. I want you to be there with me when I become a professional motocross racer. I want you there when I find someone Lord Tubbington finally wants to have babies with. And I really want you to be there when I graduate because I'm going to this time. Artie and Tina have been helping me all year, and Mrs. Schue and Mr. Schue have all my credits in order. Even Coach has forged something on my transcript. That's supposed to be a secret, though. She says I was eating too many Cheetos to stay on her squad for another year."

A lot of that didn't immediately register, just the important part that Brittany would be graduating. Brittany could leave Lima if that's what she wanted to do. She had earned it, and that was something in need of celebrating. "Of course I'll be there. Brittany, I'll be there for all of it. I'm so proud of you." She really needed to stop getting so teary. This happened every single time, utterly against her will.

"I'm proud of me too," the girl reflected. "And next year if it's okay with Mercedes, I was wondering if I could come live with you."

"You want to come to Los Angeles?"

"Yeah, like, wasn't that the plan? That we'd get back together once I could leave Lima?"

It _had_ always been the plan, but warning flags were going off. That's what Finn had done, and that mess was very obviously not working out for anyone involved. "If you want to come to LA for you, then that's definitely the plan. Don't just come there for me. There needs to be other reasons."

"Los Angeles sounds really fun. That's where people learn to surf, right? And Disneyland is there." Her eyes widened. "We have to go."

"You got it. We'll go first thing." She smiled momentarily. "But what does this mean for us now?"

"It means we wait until I graduate, and then we pick up where we left off. Like a VCR. I don't know why people ever stopped using them." She had never been a big fan of DVDs and their chapter function.

"I can do that."

"Totally." Brittany leaned in closer to kiss her.

Dancing was possibly the only thing Brittany was better at than kissing so Santana couldn't fault herself when she was suddenly happy to be home.

"You know what I want out of our future?" She drew back. "I want to ditch this stupid wedding and get you out of that dress."

"Later." Brittany kissed her again. "It's not a stupid wedding. Everyone's really happy and back together today. Besides, I want to sing something with you."

"But we haven't prepared anything."

"Just sing with me. It will mean something with you," she assured, and that was enough. "You know the song, Santana. It's one of yours."

*

Overall, Mr. Schue's wedding was pretty dull which is basically what Puck expected it would be. Santana seemed happier by the end of it, though, so it wasn't a total waste. She cried on stage like the badass she is and sang "Songbird" with Brittany. He didn't actually remember that performance from glee club so it must have been something private between them. It may have made him a total pussy, but Puck thought the whole thing was really sweet.

The whole day had been a couple-fest. Rachel and Finn, of course, also sang together. So did Kurt and Blaine. Mike and Tina. Sam and Brittany. Mr. and Mrs. Schue. And even those who chose not to still could have if they wanted to. Artie and Sugar could have sung something with each other. Quinn seemed to want to just stay out of it all, but she still had Finn or Sam or Dreads to fall back on. Puck had no options for a duet partner.

He was a total stud who had been with most of the glee girls in some capacity, but he didn't have _that_. He sang a duet with Rachel once, but they weren't together and she did that with everyone. Plus, he's pretty sure she was just trying to make Finn jealous or get him to notice her again. That was usually Rachel's main objective. He had tried to _woo_ some of them _with_ a song at one point whether he was trying to date them or just hook up with them or was having a kid with them or whatever, but he never sang with them. He had honestly never thought about it. That wasn't really his style. Puck chased. He didn't stick around.

There was Quinn, and she had meant something to him. Even before everything happened, she always had his attention. Or, well, as much as his attention span would allow anyway. Quinn had been the one girl he knew he couldn't have so obviously he wanted her. It was easy to say it was because she was dating his best friend, but Puck didn't really care about things like that at the time. No, it had really been because Quinn was the only person in celibacy club to take it seriously, and the idea of swiping her v-card had been super hot. But then she was suddenly pregnant and gave birth to their daughter, and he loved her for real because it was impossible not to after that. Though, most of the time he doubted that they even would have talked to each other had he just used a condom so it was hardly a love story like the rest of glee was always aiming for. Not even close.

He tried to love Shelby because that would have been easy made everything _perfect_. He could have been a real dad with a real family. And he would have done everything right with them because he already knew how to do everything wrong. All he had to do was the opposite. Except he didn't love her and she was sort of using him, and even if that wasn't the case, she was still his teacher so it was going to be messy until he graduated regardless. It hadn't exactly been fair to anyone involved. Not that either of them _really_ seemed to care, but it was kind of a shitty thing to do to both Rachel and Quinn. And if she had been old enough to understand what was going on, he supposed it was pretty awful to do to Beth too. Or at the very least would have been totally confusing. So that relationship was out.

Puck ultimately just had Lauren Zizes to his name. She's the one person that he's ever technically dated. Exclusively. For longer than a week. Lauren had been pretty awesome for a while. He really thought he was growing up a bit in their relationship. And she's still the only girl he's ever gotten to come on purpose. He actually freaked out for a minute because at first he thought she was seizing or about to have gas or something, but she congratulated him and treated him to dinner afterwards. That had been rewarding in itself, but eventually that feeling wore off too. For her in particular.

He felt like he could stick around for Mercedes. He basically already did anyway. Well, and for Santana but that was different. Puck wished she'd just give them a shot instead of avoiding it and ignoring his attempts like she had been doing for the past month. And fine. Calling her _'sweet_ _chocolate'_ was probably not his best move, but he was running out of ideas.

It didn't help his muse or his ego that near the end of the reception, Puck went off to find her only to bump into her laughing with Sam again. This was really cutting into his time. They were supposed to send the bride and groom off in a few minutes. Now he would probably have to wait until they left. _Great_. He and Santana really needed to take the Biebs out. Or, like, maybe they could just set him up with Quinn again. Or Tina. She was also single and closer. That might work.

Puck waited until she was alone before approaching. "So weddings are boring but at least this one was for old people." Mercedes snorted. No one had been too fond of Rachel and Finn's wedding. Just Blaine, really. "Did you like my numbers? I hope you noticed that I didn't make it weird and sing any fly Sammy Davis Jr. even though I thought about it." He nodded to where Sam had walked away to. "I'm surprised you didn't sing with him."

"And miss showing up Rachel?" she joked. It wasn't a competition between them. Their duet was awesome. Though, he wasn't too focused on Rachel's part. "Besides, he was already singing with Brittany."

"Yeah. You okay? I know Santana was upset about that."

"I don't care who Sam duets with. He's my ex, but we're friends. And we're always going to be friends because he's a good guy who I can count on. He helped get me where I am."

Sam wasn't an asshole; that was true. He was Puck's friend too. So he didn't _want_ to dislike him, but that burned.

"So is that what this is about? Why you don't want to be with me. Because I'm not reliable like Sam? I can be. I have been. Maybe not in the same way, but I'm there when the people I care about need me. No questions asked."

"That is not what I meant. And I do count on you. But for other things. Like taco night."

Santana actually helped him with that now. She was the only one who knew what was in salsa. He wasn't about to confess that, though. "But what about that stuff you said? You know, about why you didn't want anyone to know we're living together? Look, I may be a screw-up sometimes but not like that. Not anymore. Baby, this bad boy is reformed. All of that happened forever ago."

"Just last year you were sleeping with Rachel's mother," she told him plainly.

Welp, can't argue that one.

"Yeah, I know, but you have to admit, that was a little more complicated than my typical mom affairs."

"Last week you used my computer to download porn torrents."

"So? That's just porn. It's not like I was out there doing any of that. And I already told you I know a guy who can get that virus off your hard drive." Mercedes offered an eye-roll. _Crap_. Puck was losing her. "I'm not going to do anything to mess this up. We're friends, and I don't want to lose that over something stupid. And if I do mess up, you can just dump me and tell me to get lost. I won't even put up a fight," he promised. "But I think this can work. You have to admit we get along pretty well, and it would fun. And hot. Look, I'm just asking for one date. Just to see how it goes. If you can _still_ resist the Puckerup afterward, then I'll respect that and move on. What do you say?"

*

Mercedes did not agree to the date. And she would not agree to one until Puck moved out. She would not date a roommate. That's what she told him. If it didn't work out, it would leave Puck homeless again or it would result in her not wanting to go home. Neither would work for anyone. And maybe romance wasn't supposed to be practical either but she was going to be smart about this anyway. For his part, Puck did as promised and respected her decision. They slipped back into a platonic friendship effortlessly. He was very dedicated to getting his own place and moving out, though. It would happen. He said he'd make sure of it. Mercedes found pride in a potential date with her being such a motivator.

Puck's business finally hit stride when spring came around. He lowered his prices just a bit, and apparently, they couldn't be beat. Santana and Mercedes both helped transition him back into working in LA as well as outside of it. He still couldn't compete with the big dogs, but his bank account was growing and that's all that mattered. She and Santana ended up working really well as co-managers. They argued about slogans and the color of uniform t-shirts and how much they should spend on sales magazine ads, but they brought in more customers than he would on his own.

Carefully, she and Santana kept their partnership up and began looking into alternate ways of breaking into the music business. Mercedes didn't want the label to find out she was out searching and fire her. They got some advice from a professor on campus. He taught Internet Marketing and Branding for Musicians. It was perfect, and his advice was to start looking into self-producing their own music videos. UCLA had its own recording studio she could sign up for, and Santana rehired her inexpensive film crew. They double-checked to make sure nothing would breach Mercedes's contract, and then they were designing their own YouTube channel. They started by covering some old songs from glee before moving on to original material. It wasn't much, but they were developing a dedicated (and demanding) online fan base.

Santana seemed to like UCLA and spent a little too much time tagging along on her days off. Mercedes started bringing home packets of enrollment information just in case Santana changed her mind by fall. She wouldn't have as an effective scholarship, and Santana had spent too much of her money this year to afford tuition so she'd need to continue working even if she did decide to go back to school. Santana still didn't know what she wanted to do beyond getting rich and famous and waiting for Brittany. In the meantime, she still went out to find her casual hookups that resulted in nothing. Mercedes had a substitute blanket when she was a toddler for when hers was out of commission. It was much of the same idea.

Mercedes and Puck have started dating outside the apartment again as well. He never brought anyone home or introduced them to someone special and he still insisted with his _'persuading,'_ but he seemed to be having fun. Mercedes had finally agreed to go out with a couple boys from school and one from church. They were all gentlemen, but none could sing so she didn't keep any of them around. Mostly, the trio dropped possible significant others like flies and swapped stories with each other instead.

They spent a lot of time reorganizing their apartment together. If it all went as planned, Brittany would be moving in soon because Santana agreed without discussing it first. Mercedes was so over squatters. They had no room left and while she's sure Santana would appreciate it, she didn't want Brittany sleeping on top of the girl. As a compromise, Mercedes made Santana a deal that for a slight raise in her (and Brittany's) rent, they'd switch rooms. The two would fit much more comfortably in her bedroom, and Mercedes could spend more money on clothes. It wasn't the worst deal.

When graduation did finally arrive, Santana got little sleep the night before and spent the entire flight into Columbus fidgeting in her seat and being a total nuisance. She was more nervous now than during her own graduation. Puck and Mercedes decided to tease her endlessly. The ceremony dragged, but Mercedes was so happy for her friends that it didn't matter. They had all done it now. They had all conquered McKinley. Everyone had come back to celebrate together, and while everyone was catching up Santana could barely contain herself and began to pull Brittany away for some private time. It was the happiest the day got.

By now, everyone had heard through the glee grapevine that last week Finn had left Rachel to come back home. Kurt tried to say that it was only temporary, but no one believed him. Mercedes didn't even think _Kurt_ believed that. She wanted her friends to be happy, even Rachel, but this wasn't surprising. Finn had no prospects in New York outside of being Rachel's husband and that didn't bode well. She has no clue why either of them thought it was a good idea to get married in the first place. To be honest, she expected to be privy to some more of the couple's drama. It was just their way of things. So it wasn't a surprise when New Directions collectively walked in on their final breakup. Really, they should know by now to pick locations that were a little less public.

Finn was shoving a piano when they entered the choir room laughing together. The laughter rapidly died away, and Mr. Schue was checking on his former students. Rachel had apparently been cheating on him. That was definitely news. The fact that it had been with _Quinn_ was, well…Mercedes knew this type of thing supposedly happened in college, but she's pretty sure it wasn't supposed to go down with your very married friends. No one knew how to react to that revelation besides Finn who yelled and left. Everyone who wasn't directly involved just stood around in shock. Actually, Santana had thrown out a comment or two, but Mercedes was so used to those that she didn't even acknowledge them anymore. This really wasn't how the day was supposed to go.

On the one hand, she felt bad for Sam and the rest of the graduates. On the other, it was comforting to know that some things would just never ever change.

They were going to have a party in there, but that obviously wasn't going to happen now. After Finn stormed out, Quinn had left immediately after him without a word. Kurt and Mr. Schue tried to calm Rachel down while Ms. Pillsbury tried to usher the group over to the chairs and make the mood a little more upbeat. Neither teacher succeeded, and Kurt asked Blaine to drive Rachel home while he went to go find his brother. No one really wanted to stick around after that. Joe claimed he wanted to go pray, and everyone else escaped out to the bleachers. It was a beautiful day weather wise and after stopping off at his car, Puck sneaked two six-packs of beer over to them. They had their own party, but it was difficult for anyone to focus.

"Hey, are you even listening?"

Mercedes barely registered Santana snapping her fingers in front of her face. "Sorry. I can't stop thinking about Rachel and Finn and what what down in that choir room."

"That shit was messed _uppppp_ ," Artie drawled.

She didn't mean to change the subject, but they all obviously wanted to talk about the latest drama in glee.

"It seems so…random that Quinn and Rachel would, well, have sex. With each other." Mike winced.

"Mmm," Tina hummed in agreement. "I can't believe Quinn would do that to Finn. Again."

Santana scoffed. "Like Rachel's Little Miss Innocent?"

"Whatever. I can't believe she's willing to be into chicks. That either of them are," Puck sighed wistfully. "I should have asked for a threesome years ago."

"Quinn's not that into that," Brittany leaned over to tell him.

" _Boring_ ," Sugar pronounced.

"It is kinda odd, though. Like I know they're friends and everything now…or they were." Sam frowned. Sex usually meant more than friends. "Are they more than friends? They used to hate each other. Quinn did tell me how she wanted to torture Rachel once. I just mean, like, who saw this coming?"

There were murmurs of agreement until Santana ended them. "I knew about it months ago," she told them casually.

"Pss. Liar," Puck huffed.

"Nu-uh. Totes true. Auntie Tana knows all. And don'ts you forget it."

Mercedes didn't believe any of this. Santana's ego was an unrelenting problem. "Right. And you just failed to mention this."

"Please. Like I'm gonna blab Quinn's business all over town. And even if I were to, that means we would have missed the free show we got today. You should be _grateful_. Do you know how memorable your graduations are now? Our class may have gotten the wedding, but yours got the _breakup_. That's tops."

"Uh-huh."

Brittany gave her girlfriend a quick kiss to the temple. "That's so sweet."

"So how long has _'Auntie Tana'_ known anyway?" Mercedes continued dryly.

"For sure? Since Schuester's wedding. So don't try that with me. I'm _not_ lying. And, like, it was so _obvious_ Quinn wanted to stick her face onto Rachel's before that. Trust me. I know plenty of things that you," she flicked Mercedes's nose, "don't."

Mike shook his head in disappointment. "That's awful. You should have told Finn if you knew this long."

"Yeah, not cool," Sam agreed.

"Not surprising, though," Artie pointed out.

Tina nodded. "She does also have a track record."

"Trufax." Puck grinned. "She's actually been with everyone Quinn's dated. Usually while Quinn was dating them."

Brittany frowned. "Maybe that's how it started. Like, maybe that's how Quinn found her lady-lovin' too."

"So that means Santana probably wants to have sex with Rachel then." Sugar wrinkled her nose. "Gross."

"Hey, hey! One: There's only one person I'm interested in having super-hot sex with." Santana sent a smile to Brittany before moving back on. "And two: Rachel is her own person. Her own _grown_ _ass_ person who can make her own colossally stupid decisions. Whether that means entering into some sham of a marriage with Frankenteen and his sideways double hump or having to bone Q and her undoubtedly cobwebbed vagina to get out of it." She sat back and wiped her hands of the whole situation. "That's not on me."

Mercedes sighed. "I don't even want to agree with you."

"But you're going to."

"Just the part where Rachel made her own bed."

"Yeah, well, on that note." Sam laughed. "I should probably get going. I know my mom and dad want to spend _some_ time with me."

"Awww," Puck mocked.

"Ignore him," Mercedes advised before moving over to give Sam a hug. "And say hi again for me." She had only met Sam's parents a few times before they moved, but it was great seeing them again today.

Tina stood up as well. "We should get out of here too."

"Already? Come on, stay." Artie tried to pull her back.

"Mike and I were going to talk."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Sounds riveting."

Mike chuckled. "Also ignoring that."

"Yep. Later." Tina led her ex away.

They said their goodbyes, and once they were gone, Sugar began bouncing in Artie's lap. "Can we please tell them now?"

"Tell us what?" Puck asked.

"Just that I applied to film school and got in," the boy informed.

Mercedes smiled for her friend. "Congrats, I'm happy for you."

"Thanks. And it's also in LA."

She immediately stood straighter and sent him a glare. She knew where this was going. "Nu-uh. Not happening. You're not moving into my apartment."

"Ew. Like I'd ever live in an apartment. My father already bought me a house. Legally," Sugar amended. "It's a two-story that's been modified with all the necessary wheelchair ramps and bars, and it's right on the beach. I figured we could all live together like in _The Real World_ or on _The Hills_."

Santana frowned. "But Britts and I kind of had plans on driving Cedes nuts."

Brittany shrugged. "Or at least having a threesome."

"You can do that with us," Sugar countered before snapping at her boyfriend. "Artie, tell them were cool enough for that."

Artie looked back to his friends. "Um, Sugar is definitely cool enough for that."

"Well I'm in," Puck announced. "Even if I'm me, I'm not sure I could handle living with three chicks. Plus, it would be my own place, right? I mean, maybe I didn't buy it or even rent it, but I'd be paying for my bills and food and would be living there with my own bed in my own room. That sounds like my own place." He looked over to Mercedes.

"It would absolutely be your own place." Santana smirked right along with him. One day Mercedes would wipe those looks off of their faces.

"Then I guess he should start looking for boxes."

Today was not that day.


End file.
